If It Kills Me
by Evangeline Vera
Summary: "All I really wanna do is love you, a kind much closer than friends use, but I still can't say it after all we've been through." Long song-fic, If It Kills Me, Jason Mraz, AU. Disclaimed. Reviews are lovely.
1. Wishful Thinking

**Mitchie's POV**

I'm sitting at my usual bench at the mall, watching people pass me by. The set of benches is which mine is a part of is located in between mall wings, the designer clothing wing and the randomly-bunched-together-stores wing.

I love this little spot of mine. I come here a lot, just to sit and think and look about. Many an inspiration for a song came to me right here on this chair. Yes, by the way, I write songs. And sing. And play a few instruments as well.

What are most noticeable, well to me, about the mall-goers today are the women's footwear. I must've counted at least five women, older ones, wearing similarly designed rubber sandals that kinda looked like Crocs but weren't, 'cause they had sparkly sequins on top. They looked really comfy without apparently appearing to be rubber sandals.

Hey look, there's another lady. (Aw, what a cute baby!) And another one! This one's wearing a black pair now.

Yet another mommy with her family's passed me who was wearing a pair in white. I start to smile. Feels like this whole thing's a big collaboration of a joke, but it's not. Haha. I've got to get me on of those ingenious shoes. Maybe I'll start the younger generation trend. Or have they been trending already?

I'll bet Alex, my best friend of... well, geez, forever, knows what brand those are. She knows stuff like that.

Ugh, that girl. The reason—the real reason, I'm sitting here to be alone. I'm in one of my "I-need-a-break-from-my-super-strength-status" moods. Perpetual devotion isn't always so easy to hide, you know. In fact it's never easy, which is why I always have to be super strong. Well, duh, yeah I'm in love with her. That girl owns me. I **swear** she does. She asks for my kidneys, I'll give 'em to her. That much. I've loved her ever since I knew what love felt like. I loved her when we were little, in every possible way, I just didn't know that was it. The feeling kept growing, and so did I and my knowledge of the world, and so now, I know I love her. I love her. A whole damn lot. I'm also painfully aware of the fact that I am never going to be capable of loving anyone else like I love her. And I don't think I want to.

Does she love me back? Well, sure, she does. But—ding ding ding! Yes, smart people, ya'll are right—like a sister. Now, everybody sigh with me. And, just like in all the other cliché chick flick story lines that have ever been written, what comes after this revelation? Ding ding ding again! That is correct! She's got a boyfriend! A bunny look-a-like, brown haired, I-melt-you-with-my-eyes-and-my-soulful-little-voice (yes, little, he's 17, barely out of puberty completion), pitiful excuse for a boyfriend. He and Alex met at a music competition I joined. Yeah, I know, imagine the pain. Is'okay, I'm still here, aren't I? Oh, and I won that competition. He came in second. Insert smirk here.

Oh yes, the pain. The pain I never got around to befriending. Now, ladies and gentlemen, what comes after a) protagonist is in love with best friend and b) bestfriend has boyfriend? Ding ding ding for the jackpot win, KHUURRRECT! For best friend is clueless.

I can hear aww's coming. Thanks for the sympathy, guys. Prize I get for allowing you into my thoughts, right?

Here's the thing, though. Alex has been… odd lately—looking at me a bit longer than usual, taking extra effort to call me adorable nicknames, buying me stuff. I'm being paranoid, I guess, but what if she's on to something? What if she knows, and she thinks I don't know that she knows but I do? Sorta?

Ya'll still with me? Good.

It would be **such **a beautiful moment to see the look on her face when I tell her I know that she knows. Hah! But she'd tell me she loves me too, as long as I have, it just took her this long to realize. And then she begs for my forgiveness, I say some cheesy line, then I'd finally be happy making her happier. Happily ever after.

Oh my goodness, really? Another woman in those sandals?

"They're Fitflops," says a curly haired brunette, with skin as white as snow, brown eyes that eternally shine and the most enticing smile. "The makers claim that wearing them while walking will give you longer-looking legs, a smaller butt, improved core muscles and better shock absorption for your joints. Quite a trend, aren't they?"

"No wonder. Stylish too," I look up at her, and said eyes melt my heart, as if they never have before. She's handing me an ice cream cone. Yes! Vanilla. I take it and eat right away. "How come I don't know that? And how come you always know what I'm thinking? And why do you keep buying me stuff recently?" I ask in between licks.

"You don't know that because… you're Mitchie and you don't really bother informing yourself about fashion. I always know what you're thinking because… you're Mitchie and I just do. I've been buying you stuff recently because… you're Mitchie, and I want to. Enough said." She then takes a seat next to me, tucking her left leg under the other.

Giggling a bit, I greet her. "Hey, A." She smiles a little at me while she starts off her own ice cream. "Hi, sweetheart." I wish she'd stop calling me that. The level of longing content in my system cranks up a notch every time. Doesn't she know what it means?... Fine, to me, and only to me, does it mean any more. Cue inside frown.

"I thought you'd be the Biebs today?" I inquire. "I was. Then I broke up with him," she says, blankly.

Pretty girl I worship say what?

"Riiiight. Thought I would fall for that did you? Haha to you." I say with an eye roll, and tongue stuck out for good measure. So… why hasn't her expression changed? "No, seriously, Mitch. I did." She's looking at me now. Oh joy! I mean oh no. Oh crap. Uh oh. I knew it! Gulp.

"W-Why?" I manage. She looks away, though still blankly. "I dunno. He's just such a…" Moron? Jerk? Dimwit? "…kid." Oh. I thought… Yeah, I thought. Whew. I should really quit thinking.

"Oh," I say out loud. "But isn't that what I told you—"

"Yes, mommy, I know what you told me. Now we're over like you said we'd be. You were right, yet again. Now please, enjoy your cone and be quiet." I'm sorry, but I grin. "Ahh, so that's why you've been buying me stuff; you felt it coming!"

"No, Michelle, it's not."

"I know it isn't, but I was in the position, you see."

"Yeah, yeah. Now shush."

She always says I could be the sweetest girl on the planet, which is why she calls me sweetheart. Having said that, I then ask, "Are you okay, though? Wanna talk about it?" She swallows, then replies, "I'm fine, M. I wasn't that much into it, to be honest. I'm kinda sad, he's sweet and all, but I'm okay, really. I'm relieved actually." There's a pause, then she continues, "Am I mean?"

"You are most definitely not!" I cry. "He got to date a college girl. Let that alone, he got to date **you**! You gave him the time of day! For what, five months? He should be **immensely** grateful." I tap her cheek. She taps mine back. "Wanna know something?"

"Do I?" I ask back after chewing the last of my cone and sucking my fingers clean. "Wait, do you have sanitizer?"

"After you suck 'em? Weirdo!" But she reaches into her sling pouch and produces a tiny bottle of Midnight Pomegranate scented sanitizer. She drops some into my open palm. "God, I love this stuff. Smells so sexy," I say while rubbing my hands together in front of my nose. I see her watching me amusedly from the corner of my eye. "I love you," says Alex with one of those lazy, breathtaking smiles of hers.

I face her completely with a toothy smile. "I know."

I know.


	2. You Know Nothing

**AN: Thanks to those who reviewed, and to those who put me on alert. I'll make sure to mention you guys in my next chapter. **** So keep reviewing. Review, children! :)**

**Alex's POV**

"Thanks again for doing the dishes tonight, hunny!" mom yells from the living room. "What do you mean, 'thanks?' This is totally going into my allowance!" I yell back from the kitchen as I finished drying the utensils and placed them into their drawer. "Says who?" mom asks. "Says me," I'm now making my way to the living room as well. "Well it isn't happening, sugar, sorry." My parents are currently watching their regular evening soap operas. My mom is within my dad's outstretched arm. "Aww," I pout, now in their line of vision beside the TV, with my arms crossed, "not even enough for a cup of froyo?"

"A cup of froyo? You can get that for free, princess, just ask." Says my dad with smiling eyes. Well his mouth is smiling too, obviously, just that when my dad smiles, it's with his whole face. "Thanks for telling me that now, daddy, after I just washed the dishes even if it wasn't mine to wash tonight." My mom is giving me her weirdly stern "Okay, fine" face. She's about to give in.

"Oh, come here." See? She reaches for her purse then into it, fishes for a stray ten, and hands it to me. I take it and chirp, "Thank you, mommy." Then I give her a kiss on the cheek. As expected, dad goes, "What about me?" So I kiss him too. "Oh, so he gets free kisses and I can't even get you to wash the dishes for free?"

"Please, you guys should be thankful. I'm one of the very, **very** few incoming sophomores of NYU who actually came home for the summer to give kisses to their mommies and daddies and… do the dishes."

"We **are **thankful, hun. Get over here," mom coos. She pulls me to her and holds me close, making me sit on the couch next to her, then plants one on my forehead. "My big girl," she coos again, "you're going to be quite a force to be reckoned with someday in the big world, I can feel it." I look up at her smiling. "Thanks, mom. Really." I whisper. She smiles back and taps a finger on my nose. I start to get up, untangling myself from her, and announce "I'mma go head up now, kay?"

"Sure, baby. But answer the phone if it rings. Max says he misses you." Dad informs me. I was about to say okay when the phone does ring. "Well there you go." I pick it up on the third ring. "Hey, Maxy."

"Hey, dorkface," Max is my older brother. He's five years my senior and works in D.C. "I miss you."

"I know. Dad was just telling me." I cover the mouth piece, yawn, then look back to my parents. "Night, folks! Love you!" I call out. They both say "Night!" and "Love you too!" simultaneously. They're always like that.

I uncover the mouth piece and begin climbing the stairs. "So what's up with my D.C. lawyer of a brother?"

Sometimes I find it hard to believe I have hot shot lawyer for an loder brother. He works as a junior partner in one of the well-known firms in Capital City. He finished high school a year early, he skipped a grade, so he got a head start. It's also hard to believe how loving my family is sometimes. Not a lot of people are fortunate enough to be in a family like mine. I like to think the environment the both of us grew up in helped get us to where we are now, and to where we'll be in the future. A year ago I qualified for the honors program for Studio Arts at NYU Steinhardt. If there's something I'm good at that requires the smallest amount of effort from me, it's art. I feel it in my blood. It's a stressful and hectic course though, with lots of requirements, so I had to stay closer to school even though we already live in Waverly, near a substation.

I turn off my lamp and climb into bed. I reach for my phone from the bedside table. 3 new messages. The most recent one is from Mitchie , wishing me sweet dreams. The other two are both from my now ex-boyfriend Justin. Max is happy about that by the way. He says he never liked the boy. I say he just doesn't like me with a boyfriend.

"Alex, u sure u dn't wanna give us another try? I dn't thnk I can go back 2 living without u 2 call mine. I promise I'll be better," was what the first text said. The one that came before it said simply, "I miss u lyk crazy alrdy, bb." Poor boy.

To the sweetest girl in the world I reply "Right back at you, sweetheart." I put my phone back on the table.

If I'm such a smart girl, then how on earth did I end up with a silly boy, and how did I manage to stay with him for five long months? Although, the way we met was so cheesy, the memory still makes me smile.

Mitchie and I were rushing to the venue where the competition I convinced her to join was to be held. The prize was a Juilliard scholarship, she just had to enter, with the insane talent she had. That was about half a year ago. On her way onstage she bumped into a scrawny guy with this unique haircut with side swept bangs that reached his eyebrows and guitar on his back. We were in a hurry because I had to take this major exam which finished an hour before the contest started, and Mitchie wouldn't go without me. So the sweetheart waited and we went, well ran, together, got stuck of course, in New York traffic, and barely made it. While Mitchie was prepping herself for her performance, I locked eyes with Mr. Bangs. So I smiled and asked him if he was going after Mitchie. He just stared at me so I rephrased the question. He snapped out of whatever trance he was in, kind of mumbled a "Yeah," and then put his hand out and introduced himself as Justin. I shook his hand before telling him my name, and told him I'd go watch my best friend from the audience.

Mitchie almost made the judges cry with her voice and her song, which I knew she'd do. Then it was Justin's turn. Before he began he told the crowd, I'll never forget, "A few minutes ago, like it was a dream, I found myself in the presence of the most beautiful girl in the world I must say. Her name is Alex. Alex, I believe you now hold me captive. As your prisoner, I sing this to you." And he sang a song about smiling. After, he came up to me and asked for my number. I was so flattered by what he did I gave it to him.

From then on he was dead set on sweeping me off my feet, which I probably let him do because no less than several dozen rose bouquets, chocolates, serenades and a few weeks later, I agreed to be his girlfriend. He was sweet. The sticky, gooey kind. He was always showing me off to his friends. When he was jealous, he was discreet, which was pretty frequent. I thought it was cute. His voice was smooth and soulful, and he was impossibly charming. But now that I think about it, he never asked if maybe I'd like a different kind of flower because roses aren't my favorite, I prefer carnations. He never knew what my favorite song was; only what kind of music I listen to (at least), because he was always singing to me. A little before we broke up I realized he didn't know as much about me as I thought.

Also, since I've gone as far back as that contest Mitchie won, I remember that after Justin's little speech, during and after his performance, up until she was announced the winner, M was a little… off. I recall asking her what was wrong, and she told me she was jealous. I, of course, laughed at her, awwed, dismissed her off-ness as nerves and told her to trust me because she was going to bring it home. What I didn't really pay attention to, it's occurred to me now, is that there **was **something different in her eyes that day. Now it's got me thinking, which I'm going to carry on doing tomorrow because I'm practically sleeping now.


	3. We Go Carrying On

**AN: ****Ad3n****,****sbys****, ****tatimac****, ****thank you. :) Here's the next chapter. **

**Alex's POV**

I am in central park with Mitchie, feeding the ducks. It's something we've been doing since we were small. Whenever our moms didn't know what to do with us because we were wreaking havoc wherever we went (we were very active children), they'd take us here and we'd mellow down. Which is why up to this day we still come here and do this to relax and unwind.

Neither of us has spoken to each other in the last thirty minutes or so (maybe less, I haven't been keeping track), there being no apparent need to. Until finally she says, "It's nice having you back all to myself." I look up at her from watching a duckling fight with another little one over a piece of bread. She's wearing her trademark face-eating grin I'll probably never get tired. A few seconds later her expression turns slightly serious. "Penny for your thoughts," says Mitchie. When I simply continue to look at her she reads my mind, as she was bound to do, and asks, "It's Bieber isn't it?"

"M, what kinds of flowers do I like?" I ask back, indirectly answering her question. "Carnations," was her response. I knew she could tell where this is going. "Do I have a favorite type of chocolate?"

"You like Cadbury's Fruit and Nut variety." I still haven't looked away. "But I know that because we spend more than half of all the time we have in this world with each other. For almost 15 years now. You'll have to give me that," now I do look away. "Not necessarily. You wouldn't have known that for another 15 years if you never went through the trouble of finding them out," I argue. "A, you said you were okay," her serious face has now changed to one that of concern. "I am, aren't I?" Raised eyebrows. "I know, I'm supposed to be… I'm sorry. I guess I feel like a fool all of a sudden 'cause I've just realized that I let Justin turn me into goo, so much so I failed to see that… I lost my sense of sight," emotion laced my words. I can't believe how worked up that silly teenage boy was able to get me. I'm two freakin years older! Then again, he did make me fall for him.

"You failed to see that you lost your sense of si… What now?" She was full on giggling at me. I throw some of my bread crumbs at her. "Hey! You got bread in my hair!" She ruffles her own hair to get the stuff out, then proceeds to clearing her voice and looking deep into my eyes. I can see the sincerity in them now. Earlier they were filled with mirth. "You're not a fool, okay? Trust me, you're not. Besides, now you know better than to be tricked by the sweetness of complex sugar. Next time a guy tries to woo you again, make sure he really, **really **wants you, and he doesn't just want to, you know, turn you into goo," she states, then she goes back to feeding.

The day of her competition, the day I met Justin, I noticed she was kinda off because of her eyes. They were… sad. That's odd, isn't it? It wasn't nerves at all. And she told me she was jealous. Hm. I wish I'd seen it then so I could've asked her what was really bothering her. Stupid me. She's always there, reading my mind and thus knowing my problems and solving them like it's her business, and what about me? Where have I been these past 5 months for example? In the company of some…child. I am such a lucky nutcase, to have her. I swear. The least I can do is say, "Thank you, sweetheart."

"Whatever for, my dear?"

"For everything. For sticking around when I'm being a dumb, shallow dork."

"Oh, okay. You're welcome then," she laughs.

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, don't be, silly. There's nothing to be sorry about."

"Sure there is. Everything."

"Fine. I forgive you, geez."

"Mitchie?"

"Yes, Alex?" she says dramatically, complete with eye roll.

"You know I love you, right?" she stops feeding once more and looks up at me. I like whatever's making her eyes this pretty shade of brown. I should tell her I love her more often, she deserves to hear it. If there's one thing I absolutely love to do, aside from art, it's looking into this girl's eyes. Since I was young, to me, there's always something in her eyes that made things, well, better. Like that day when I was 9, I accidentally broke my mom's new glass figurine because I was so fascinated with it. I was terrified of what might happen. I looked into Mitchie's eyes when she told me everything was gonna be fine, and my fears disappeared. True enough, my mom didn't get mad when she saw how sorry I was. I struggled with History in seventh grade; I was on the brink of failing. Mitchie patiently tutored me 'til I remembered every detail. Her eyes during that time told me I'd make it through, so I did. With flying colors. Here eyes gave me strength, assurance and security.

Back in the present, Mitchie takes my hand, moves closer and gives me a sweet, lingering kiss on my forehead. We're eye to eye again after. "I do, darling. But believe me, I love you more."

"I believe you."


	4. Double Life

**AN: Thank you to: whateverOne , xDehx , gabkins , Ad3n and tatimac . Enjoy. :)**

** Mitchie's POV**

"…And all I really wanna do is love you, yeah the feeling inside keeps building, and I'mma find a way to you if it kills me, if it kills me…it might kill me," I belt out the last few notes, and the last bars of the song are played, then it ends. It's my last one for tonight's set.

"That's all for tonight, ladies and gentlemen. If you liked what you've just seen and heard, come back on Wednesday, tell your friends. Um, I'll be back to keep you guys company while you savor Henny's house specialties, not found elsewhere," I say into the mic as the band packs up. "The request bowl is over there by the bar, for those who want me to perform a song in particular on Wednesday," I add. "Adios, amigos. Buenas noches."

See, thrice a week, on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, I sing in this little music bar/restaurant called Henny's. It's owned by a kind old Mexican lady, Mrs. Henny San Pedro. Her three children finished school through this joint. Her husband died shortly after it opened. To me though, this is where I get extra cash. I go to Juilliard as a full scholar. That's what I beat the Beaver for (wahaha). I major in vocals, minor in composition.

I get off stage and head towards the bar for a few drinks. My good friend Caitlyn is the bar tender. I met her at Juilliard. When I found out she needed some cash as well, I told her about this place, so here she is. She's taking up dance and choreography. She can move, this girl.

"The person who requested for that last one must know me personally. It totally hit the spot," I sigh while beating the side of my fist over my heart. "That's 'cause she does know you personally," Caitlyn smirks at me. My eyes go wide. I pinch her arm when she gets close enough. "Ow! I'm sorry! I just like that song. Last time I listened to it I thought the words were taken right out of your mouth. So I put it down in the request bowl to see how you'd do it." So I ask her, "And how did I do?"

"You broke everyone's heart, didn't she, Roger?" she asks of one of our regulars. "I really feel for you Mitch. Just know we're all rooting for you, ayt?" Roger tells me before taking a swig of his beer. "Thanks, Roj. I do truly need a lots'a rootin'." I say, with yet another sigh. I stare off into space. "I'm glad I affected the audience that way, if I did really make an effect; my own heart was breaking up there," I turn to Caitlyn. "Sometimes I feel my melodramatic, romantic comedy-ish predicament entertains you a little too much, Cay." Caitlyn looks at me with sympathy. Then she got to work whipping up a drink without another word. I am unable to take note of the stuff she puts in it. When she's done she puts a cocktail glass on the bar table, in front of me, and pours in her concoction. "Accept my peace-offering. My latest invention. Tastes pretty good," says Caitlyn, wiggling her eyebrows. "You know I'm just kidding, right?" I ask her. Caitlyn, such a softie. "Yeah, just drink it. I'm sure it'll help with the heartache. Go on," Caitlyn encourages me. I take a sip. It was delicious. I down the entire thing. "Told you," Caitlyn smiles. "You want another one?" She makes me another one. And another one. And a few more.

"I knew it! I am just some form of real life movie to you, Caitlyn Therese. I he- *hiccup* I _**heyt **_you. I het you. Heytchuuuu." I slur. It's just me and Cay now. We've closed down the place. Mrs. Henny's gone home and left it to us. Caitlyn saw how much I enjoyed her "latest invention" so she put together glass after glass after glass and never bothered to stop me. Now, well, I am in this condition. I know I'm not full-on drunk yet, I've still got a hold of my thoughts, but I'm sure I cannot walk straight once I stand up.

"You liked the drink so much, I… I… Honestly, honey when you get all… like this, I'm really at a loss on what to do with you. You exude so much hurt. All I have to offer are 'I'm sorry's' and alcohol. You won't let me help you with her," I can tell she's concerned and sorry for me at the same time. "I just…c-can't risk anything Cay. I need her so much, and I know she needs me too." Unbeknownst to me, tears stream down my face. "This double life I lead isn't healthy for me, Cay. It's not."

"It's not," she repeats. "If I get caught, I'd be risking it all. I don't know what might happen, Cay. I don't think I'd have enough power to handle it if…" I couldn't finish. I lay my head down sideways on my crossed arms, which were on top of the table, while my tears continue to flow. "I… just love her soooo much, Cay. She **is** love, for me. We learned everything together… We learned about life, and the importance of family, and… I learned about love because I loved her, from the beginning… but she didn't, I don't think, as much as I did. And for that I know I j-just c-can't love anyone else," and then I'm aware of the tears, so I wipe them away with one hand. "Crap, this is tragic. And pitiful. I'm sorry, Cay."

She's dried the very last of the bar glasses and hung it up. She puts down her towel and swipes at tears that've formed in her own eyes. "And you don't deserve it, Mitchie. You just don't." She comes over to me and envelopes me in a hug. "You know if I could do something, anything, I would, right?" she asks, with my face in her hands. "Yes, Cay. Thank you. I'm sorry I keep doing this to you," I apologize. "What? Why? Shut up," and with that she hugs me again, rubbing circles into my back.

Just then my phone rings on the bar table. I check and see, "It's Alex." Caitlyn lets go of me. I try to clear my throat and make my voice strong. "Hey, A. Isn't it a little too late for you to be calling?"

"You're not home yet, are you?" the girl states. States, not asks. "N-no, actually. I'm still with Caitlyn at He- *hiccup* Henny's."

"You're drunk. I'm picking you up."

"No, Alex, it's fine, Cay'll take me home. And I'm not that *hiccup* drunk yet. I *hiccup* swear. Please, A."

"Right. Stay put, young lady, I'm coming."

I'm so frustrated I end the call without saying bye and drop my phone onto the table. "And then she… why does she… ugggghh!" I pull at my hair. Caitlyn restrains me from getting up and throwing the bar stool somewhere breakable. "Calm down, champ. You'll make it through. Okay? Have faith."

Faith? I think I've ran short on that lately. I need replenishing.


	5. Miss My Chance Again

**AN: Fast update coz I'm loving the response. :] Thanks to: ****fanficfanluv****, ****Ad3n**** (I don't think this is as bad as you expect :D) and ****manhattanProject**** (from whom I'm much honored to get a review coz I love The Push and the Pull, I think it's brilliant) and to all those who are going to leave me reviews or alerts in the coming days. Here's the next one. :]**

**Third person POV**

Mitchie doesn't drink much, so she rarely gets drunk either. But Alex knows what she's like when she is; she's seen it. When she heard Mitchie's voice upon answering her call she was immediately sure the other girl had been drinking. Not a lot may be different about Mitchie when intoxicated, especially when the intoxication hasn't reached a significant degree, but Alex notices everything.

She's yet to receive Mitchie's goodnight text that night, which she's been receiving every night, without fail, since the day they both got their first cellphones. It was a cause fro concern, which is why Alex called.

Mitchie was sitting on the pavement next to Caitlyn in front of Henny's when Alex arrived in her Escape hybrid. She stepped out and approached them. Caitlyn gets up, and then helps Mitchie up as well. "Thanks for staying with her, Cay," Alex tells her. "Anything, any time, any place for this girl, with that huge heart of hers. She deserves to be presented with the world at her feet. How I wish everyone could see that," Caitlyn slightly grumbles. Alex thinks her long reply to a simple 'thank you' was weird, but her care for her best friend over takes all other thoughts so she asks, "What is this about, and why don't I know about it?"

"You're gonna have to ask Mitchie yourself," Caitlyn shoots a pointed look at Alex. Again, Alex is weirded out, and now a bit confused. "Who's kinda standing right her and can hear everything, in case ya'll forget," Mitchie pipes in. Caitlyn, in turn, plants a kiss on top of the girl's head and tells her, "Yes, champ, you've been standing right there haven't you? All this time?" Alex almost scratches her head. "Well, see you on Wednesday. Sleep well," Caitlyn adds, rubbing Mitchie's shoulders. To Alex, she says, "Drive safe, A," and starts to walk in the other direction. "Will do," Alex calls back to the girl's now retreating form. Alex then pays attention to Mitchie. She loops her right arm with Mitchie's left one. "C'mon, sweetheart, let's get'cha home." She takes Mitchie to her car and helps her into the passenger's seat before going around getting in herself. She starts the car and they're on their way. When things like this happen an automatic, emergency sleep over takes place at Alex's house. So both of them know that's where they're headed. Alex's house isn't very far. The ride was quiet, what with Mitchie nursing a throbbing headache. When they were very near their destination, Mitchie says, "Will you not call me that?" out of nowhere.

By this time they were in the driveway of Alex's apartment building. She parks the car, then makes Mitchie repeat herself. "I said, 'Will you not call me that?'"

Alex looks at Mitchie with eyebrows scrunched together. She doesn't have a clue where all this is coming from and she doesn't like it one bit. This doesn't happen often. "Call you what?" she asks Mitchie back. "'Sweetheart'. I'm not your sweetheart, Alex." And with that Mitchie gets out of the car and walks toward the building, then into it. There's a trace of hurt in Mitchie's voice, hurt that Alex felt somewhere inside her right away. In the elevator Alex gets a glimpse of Mitchie's eyes before she looks down. The slightly older girl saw something different in them, something she didn't like so much either.

Up until they reached her door, Alex still hasn't come up with anything to say to what Mitchie told her in the car. Once inside, Alex shuts the door behind her. She watches as Mitchie marches straight to her room. Desperate, Alex jogs up to her and turns her around. "M, I hate seeing you this way. Why do I not know what's going on? Please tell me. You're supposed to tell me everything, M. What's wrong? And you know better than to say 'nothing'." Mitchie, who had been looking at the floor, finally looks up at Alex. She is taken aback by what she sees in Mitchie's eyes. Pain, which would match the tone of her voice earlier in the car, which was also what Alex saw in them the day of the competition. Alex cannot help but think she's missing out on something big. "You're hurting, M. This is huge. I'm amazed I don't know about it."

Mitchie cannot hate herself more than she does as this very moment. If she simply remembered to sent that single stinking text message this wouldn't be happening. If she didn't lose control at the bar and stopped drinking the alcohol wouldn't have turned into liquid courage, making her say things she shouldn't, this wouldn't be happening. If only she knew that she was beginning to fall ridiculously hard for her best friend way back when, she would've stopped herself, and none of this would be happening. But she didn't know. She didn't know, so she couldn't have stopped herself. And because of that she hates herself and her foolish heart even more.

"I'm just so tired, A," it's the alcohol again. She should really hold it in from now on, or something might happen that she isn't prepared for. Alex's face, obviously a reflection of a myriad of emotions, fortunately backs her up on that piece of logic. "Tired of what? Being called 'sweetheart'?" Mitchie makes sure she has a firm enough grip on her thoughts before she begins speaking. "…Of... Well, everything." She deliberately changes her expression into that of exhaustion, which she's really experiencing, anyway. "I'm sorry, A. I know you don't understand, but I don't think I can explain right now. I just… I think, right now, your company's what I need. I promise we'll talk when I'm ready." Mitchie also hates she has to put Alex through all of this.

Alex is not less baffled, but decides to agree with her best friend and drop it 'til further notice. "Okay, M. If that's what you want." Mitchie looks away again but comes closer and puts her arms around Alex's neck. "I'm sorry." Mitchie's crying again. "Stop crying, Mitchie. It's okay. Don't cry," Alex whispers into Mitchie's shoulder, hugging her back. Shortly after, "Mitch, wait. I think there's something important I have to say to you," says Alex. Mitchie lets go, shaking a bit, to look at her best friend. "You don't smell very nice," Alex's face is so serious it's almost dramatic. "I think you should take a shower."

Mitchie pushes Alex back so hard she almost falls down, but she's smiling through the tears that have streaked down her face. She turns around into Alex's room and to her closet, which she knows like it's her own, grabs a pair of nighties and goes to the bathroom to shower. When she finishes and comes out, Alex is already asleep. Mitchie blocks out every stressful thought from her head as she crawls next to Alex, putting her arm around the other's waist.

Before she closes her eyes, she gazes at the breathtaking, sleeping face next to hers. She hears her heart, "You missed your chance again," it tells her.

"That's fine with me, for now," she says to it. Then she succumbs to slumber.


	6. A Heart In My Hands

**AN: This took longer because I got stuck for a while. But SuperGravyMan reviewed! Dude, your stories are stellar! Thank you! manhattanProject , sbys , xDehx , Ad3n , full360-2b-me you guys rock. :) Keep 'em coming.**

**LusciousLife , again, shut up. This WHOLE THING is for YOU, greatness. ;)  
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**Mitchie's POV**

_Alex didn't shut her curtains properly _is the first coherent thought I get as I awaken. The early morning sunshine hit my eyes directly from the little space the curtains left open. I sit up and rub my eyes, and massage my head a little, because it hurts. I yawn, then grab my phone from the bedside table. It's 6:30. No messages. My parents (mom and stepdad) moved to Miami after I graduated high school, so I don't live with them; no one else would be concerned. I'm due for a visit though, before school starts again.

I turn to the brunette lying beside me, snoring a bit. It's silly, what this girl does to me. I'm just looking at her yet I feel like if I don't look away soon, I'm gonna get a heart attack. But then I bring myself to, because she looks like an angel. There are days I wonder what the hell she's doing here, because she so obviously belongs somewhere…up there. Many a time, especially when I was younger, I'd come up with elaborate stories explaining Alex's exceptional beauty. One of them was how she could be Jupiter's youngest daughter, half-mortal and half-goddess like Hercules, and had to be hidden here on Earth to live a normal human life to escape the wrath of Juno, who thought Jupiter had stopped his womanizing ways. Whaaat? She's inhumanly pretty!

I'm still staring.

I keep telling myself that I'm afraid to lose our friendship, and that's also what I tell people when they ask why I won't confess. Although, deep in my heart, I feel that on the day I become absolutely certain I cannot make Alex mine in this lifetime is probably the day I'm going to die. That's how much I love her. I get the strength to carry on loving her unrequited everyday from the thought that I'm still alive, which means maybe there's hope. But I know that said hope gets smaller and smaller as time goes by.

How sad would it be if I died on that day and she never knew anything. Maybe I'll tell her in the next lifetime.

I saw how affected she was last night. It took every fiber of me not to just burst out with everything I felt.

I… am still staring.

She scrunches her nose, and breaks into a little smile, like she's just smelled something really nice. What kind of dreams is this girl having? But whenever she smiles, I smile. So, of course, I smile. I lean over and kiss her now unscrunched nose.

Alex loves me, of that I'm sure. It may be not as much as mine is for her, she still loves me. I **have** to tell her. She deserves to know. If she ends up hating me, and I do perish, at least I'd go down valiantly; having lived through what could possibly be the greatest kind of pain ever known to man: love unrequited. Or so I think it is.

With this resolve I get up slowly so she won't wake up, write her a post-it note and stick it on the top right corner of the floor length mirror in her room, where I'm sure she'll see. And then leave, shutting the door quietly.

**Alex's POV**

I'm not surprised to find no one beside me. She'll come back later. She always does. Judging by what transpired last night, though, she might not be back as soon as I think. Or not, 'cause there's a post-it stuck to my mirror. I get up and take it. In Mitchie's loopy handwriting, the note said

_I can't ever be thankful enough for being blessed with you for a best friend. But thanks anyway, and sorry, x1,000,000 for last night. I know, I owe you. Meet me at Henny's later, 5:00._

_3 M_

Okay, now I'm just lost. I am with this girl **constantly, **it's unbelievable how I missed out on something as big as what I had witnessed. I'm worried. It's not some trivial thing, or else I would've known by now. Like I said last night she tells me everything, most especially when something's bothering her, with no consideration as to its gravity or of how idiotic sounding it might be.

She's gonna pull something. I can tell. I can also tell it might change quite a number of things between us. Because—holy crap!—why has it only occurred to me right now? Her eyes, they were dead giveaways! I am so effing **dense! ***facepalm!*

The poor girl has deeper feelings for me. Ohhh, poor girl is right. Oh man. How long? For how long has been holding it in and suffering like that?

I go sit back down on my bed. My knees are shaking. Actually, **I'm** shaking. All of me.

Having realized all this, I now have a new problem. I have **no clue** what I feel about it. **None**. Because not for a single split second did I ever think this might actually happen. Because I'm an effing dimwit. My SAT scores were lying!

She's probably going to sing to me. I wish people would just stop singing to me for a while, though. I don't deserve it! Well, not anymore, I don't!


	7. All I Really Wanna Do Is Love You

**AN: Special shout outs: tatimac , manhattanProject, sbys , Karen2212 , Ad3n, soccer-girl-7797, greatpretender27 and SuperGravyMan ! Thanks for all the support, people. I hope you like this one. I'd get it if you guys hate me a bit, though. I just hope it doesn't last forever, hihi. :)**

**Mitchie's POV**

I told Alex to meet me at Henny's because I know very well that I still lack the courage to say anything right to her face, and so I thought I'd sing to her in front of restaurant patrons for plus points. But on my way home to my little apartment downtown I realized Bieber did a lot of that already. I hate his guts right now. His thing just HAD to be my thing too, music.

I have something he doesn't, though: what I feel inside. I'd bet a million dollars no one, past or future, can equal the love I have for Alex. Mine's been building for years and years, first off.

I could write to her, but that would make me look much more cowardly that I actually am, although that would be romantic. But I told her to meet me at Henny's. I can't make her use up her precious time getting ready and looking nice—not that she doesn't look nice all the time—just to hand her a letter.

I guess that leaves me with… public speaking, which I'm not too bad at. It won't make me look scared at all, and is cheesy enough—doesn't lack cheese, but not too cheesy either—for what I hope to achieve. Be reminded these are just things I tell myself though, and may not necessarily be true. *sigh* Well, great, I guess I'll get to plannin'.

**Alex's POV**

_It's only Mitchie_, I think to myself, as I walk to Henny's. It's 10 minutes before 5. I'm walking because I don't think I have the stability to drive right now. I didn't want to stress myself out even more so I'm dressed simply, in a white v-neck, a cami, skinny jeans and black Converse. I'm pretty sure Mitch thinks I look breathtaking in anything.

The reason I'm nervous is because I need more time to truly decipher what I feel about my newly acquired information, but I loathe how this might break my Mitchie's very big heart.

I'm not afraid to call her mine. It's always felt like she belonged to me, somehow, in some way. We're **that** close. But because I'm the most epic nitwit on the face of the earth, it's only today I saw said feeling in a different light. Now I regret allowing myself to believe I'm the smart one. Stupid, deceitful SAT scores.

I'm now in front of the restaurant. There's a sizable amount of people inside. Ho boy. Breathe in… and enter.

As if she's been watching out for my arrival this whole time, which I'm quite sure she has, Caitlyn spots me right away. She rushes to me, takes my arm, yanks on it, then drags me off to what I can now see is a pretty secluded corner of the restaurant. "She's specifically instructed me to sit you somewhere she can't see you from onstage," she says calmly, but I can tell she's excited. She's exuding it. To prove my thoughts she says, "You have NO idea how utterly RELIEVED I am this is finally happening." And with a huff and "I'mma go get you something to drink," she leaves me to return to the bar.

At precisely 5pm someone calls out "Mic check." They must have really good equipment here. I didn't hear any of those really loud squealing noises microphones make when they're being set up. I turn to the stage. There she is. What, no guitar? No band , either. Hm, acapella then, I guess? This girl has an **amazing** voice regardless of anything, anyway. I could record her singing in the shower, release that as her single and it'd be a sure fire hit. Believe me, she's **magnificent**.

Caitlyn puts my drink on the table, gives my arm a little squeeze, and leaves again. "Hola, amigos," Mitchie begins. "If you're here on MWF's then most likely, you'd know who I am, and if you know who I am then most likely, you know my story—quote, unquote."

What story?

"For those who don't know as much, hi, I'm Mitchie Torres, I work here as a mainstay singer. I won't be singing for you today, though."

You're not?

"To those who don't know yet, I'm going to tell you a story. To those who already know, I'm going to tell you my story… from the beginning." She pulls out a piece of letter sized white paper from the breast pocket of the plaid button-down shirt she has on, with some jeans and a pair of red Converse (we got our Chucks together). Before she completely unfolds it she looks up at her audience, she grins that signature grin of hers and asks them to "Holler if I have your attention." Everybody hollers. After that, "I know this isn't the most conventional type of entertainment at joints like this but trust me peeps, this should be entertaining," she tells them with a giggle. Then, she starts reading. My chest clenches. If that makes any sense.

_**Mitchie's 'speech'**_

_One day when I was 5 years old, which was 14 years ago, now y'all know how old I am, I was sitting in the corner at school playing with the toy keyboard by myself when our teacher Ms. T calls out to everyone to gather round. She introduces us to a little girl named Alexandra, who was going to be our new classmate. And when I say little, I do mean little, because this kid was smaller than most of us in that class. The fact that she looked scared and unadjusted made her look even smaller. But there was just something about her, which I couldn't exactly put my finger on, being around only 5 years; nevertheless it told me I had to be near this girl as much as possible._

_That day I asked if she wanted to play with me. I was the first one to do so. And she agreed, and we both found out how much we had in common, and I found that I didn't know why but I liked to look at her. There was something about that face that made me happy. When she smiled I felt all funny inside. So I told myself I would make her smile whenever I could. And since then I would fret if she wasn't by my side. I cried once, because she didn't come to school, only to find out the next day that she had a dentist appointment. I'm still like that until now, actually, but of course _

_So, as funny as it sounds to me right now, I fell in love when I was 5 years old. What's funnier is I never felt the same way for anyone else. I don't know whether that's a curse, because I found my one true love extraordinarily early on, or a blessing, because I never made any efforts to let her know anything; I didn't want things to change between us; so in the past 14, close to 15, years, I have never known what it's like to be loved back._

_I can't tell you exactly when I became sure I loved her, now of course I could tell you it was when we first met, but as to what age specifically I finally came to accept what I felt for her, I don't know. I just knew, suddenly. I wish I'd never known though. It's a wonderful feeling to love someone as much as I do, if only I could teach you all how, the world might be a better place, but not as wonderful is if that person has no idea, so you have no idea what it would feel like to be on the receiving end._

_I'm actually doing this, standing here in front of you, because I can't stand it anymore. I asked her to come, so she's here amongst you, and she can hear everything, so now she knows. _

_Alex, as much as I'd hate for things to become weird between the two of us, I hate more that you're ignorant about all of this. I love you with everything I've got. I can't express it in any better way. _

**Alex's POV**

"See? I wish y'all could see your faces, you guys look so entertained," Mitchie's wiping at a few tears that've fallen from her eyes. As are some members of the audience. "If there's a director in the house, you're welcome to purchase my story and turn it into a movie," she laughs, "I could use the cash."

"But seriously," she continues, "thanks to everyone for listening, even though you all just sat there you helped me a lot. I feel a whole lot better." A guy from the audience yells an "We love you, Mitchie!" Apparently Mitchie recognizes the voice because she calls back out "I love you too, Roj! Easy on the booze now!"

"To the rest of you, thanks again. See you tomorrow when I bring you music, like I'm supposed to, haha. Henny, do you hear me?" The kindly woman who owns the place gives out a whoop at Mitchie's question to which M says "Muchas gracias, señora!" With that, Mitchie steps off the stage and walks toward Caitlyn.

I can see her take a deep breath before she asks where I'm at, I'm sure. Caitlyn gives her the directions and I watch her make her way to me.

"Hey," she's sheepishly smiling. She takes a seat next to me. It's a booth type table with couch-like seats. "Hey yourself." She reaches over and wipes my tear-stained cheeks, which I had no idea they were, then contents herself to just staring at me. "Look," I say first, "I also don't want for things to be different with us. I promise nothing changes after today." We look into each other's eyes a bit more. "How long have you known?" she sighs. "Since I woke up this morning. Sorry." She looks down then mumbles "You need time, right?"

"I do, but not time away from you, I don't think I can handle that. I'm sure you won't be able to either, just, time to think things over... I can't give you anything right now… I'm kind of at a loss. And I don't want to give you something you don't deserve." I pause and take her hand. "You deserve so much more than what you have to give, M. You're an incredible person." I put my hand under her chin so I can look again into those eyes I love so much. And though it seems like an empty question, "You okay with that?" I ask her.

She takes her sweet time, brushing our holding hands together, before she smiles sadly, and answers, "Sure, I can take that. I've been waiting and subjecting myself to all this suffering for so long anyway. In fact I think I can wait forever." Her words sting. It's so hard for me to deal with her getting hurt. Let alone because of me. "That came out bitter, didn't it?"

"I know you can't help it. I wouldn't, if I were you." Another pause. "Can I hug you?" She lets me.

"You should know, though, that I can't just sit here peacefully anymore," she says from behind me. She pulls away and takes my face in her hands. "I'm going to find my way to you if it kills me, A," and her tears begin to fall again. My heart cracks a little. "It might kill me."

"M," I say helplessly. She takes me into her arms again. "I love you," she croaks. I can feel everything, EVERYTHING, in those three words. But with that she stands and heads out.


	8. My Way To You

**AN: Ridiculously long chapter to make up for how long it took for me to update. Shout outs: SuperGravyMan, Karen2212, greatpretender27, sbys, manhattanProject, Ad3n, and tatimac. Enjoy! :)**

**Mitchie's POV**

It has been a month since I told an entire restaurant about my deep feelings for my best friend. I'm on my way to Alex's dorm right now. I have a new trick up my sleeve today.

This past month I've done nothing but make myself the most irresistible I could possibly be. The afternoon following the one when she found out about everything, I left a bouquet of yellow carnations at her doorstep before I headed for work at Henny's. I put the flowers there, rang the doorbell and scampered away, like a true love struck, idiotic suitor. The flowers came with a little card, of course. It said, "Pretty flowers for the prettiest flower of all." A little while later I received a text from Alex: "Hey cheeseball. Got the flowers. They're lovely. Thank you. :)"

And every time we'd see each other after that I'd have a carnation bouquet ready for her. Different colors each meeting. Ya'll should've seen the look on her face when I handed her the green, blue and purple bunches I had to specially request for, and thus with extra pay. Which was worth it, of course, for A.

It does feel better now that she knows, like the giant thorn that was in my heart for most of my life's been pulled out. I feel more free, though obviously, not completely. I still have to restrain myself from touching and staring for too long, like before. Nevertheless, I feel more alive than ever. I'm in love, and I don't have to hide it anymore.

True to her word, A hasn't changed one bit towards me. Our friendship is exactly the same, save for the flowers and other extra stuff, such as more meaningful I love you's from me, and the longer hugs she'd allowed between us. Oh, and the many blushes I've gotten out of her whenever I'd pull something. Honestly, like I told her that day, I'd be fine with this kinda thing going on for a lot longer. She can take all the time in the world she needs to 'think things through'. I'm having fun. I feel so strong, like a super hero—giving myself, expecting nothing in return.

My powers are being tested at present, actually. See, Alex met this guy at her school. His name is Nate. I've met him, at a pop convention; Alex told me he'd be there. He's a pretty cool guy, an ocean's depth from Bieber's personality, not to mention looks. He's studying Music, like me, which is why we get along nice. He seems to be quite into Alex as well. And Alex has hasn't seemed more excited to have made a new friend than she does now. Whenever she talks about him, no matter how carefully she's doing so, it's as if fate's punching me in the gut. Whenever that happens, I'm like 'Oh, well.'

I'm now inside the Steinhardt dorm building. I climb a flight of stairs and make my way over to A's room at the very end of the hall. I knock twice. She opens the door with a huff and a "Hey, sweetheart."

Yes, she's gone back to calling me that. She said she knows I'm not her sweetheart, but asked if it would be alright if she calls me that again because she's used to, and because that's what I am—a sweetheart. How could I say no to that?

"Good day to you, goddess divine," I greet back with my trademark smile. There it is, red cheeks to make my day. She notices the lack of flowers in her grasp, and so asks "No flowers for me today?"

"Maybe later. I'll think about it." The smile doesn't leave my face. She's a sucker for it. She has been since we were young, 'cause this was how I got her to do things for me. If the smile doesn't work, there's always the pout.

She raises her eyebrows at me, and returns a smirk of her own. "Oh. Well it's not like I'm going to miss them, anyway," she states. I get on her bed, kick my shoes off and proceed to sit Indian style. "Kay," I grin at her. She goes back to where she was sitting prior to my arrival and continues what looked like she's been working on for some time now. I move to lie on my belly and reach for the Gummi Bear container on the bedside table. She makes sure she has some always, for when I come over. I open it and begin eating in the 'Mitchie Way' or so Alex calls it. I squeeze each bear first, then eat the head, before popping the rest of it into my mouth. "What's that?" I ask finally. She has pencil smudges all over her face and hands. I love when she looks like this—in her own element. Her hair is up in a bun.

"This is for Intermediate Perspectives. Here look," she beckons. I'm the only one who's ever seen her works unfinished. For some reason. She wouldn't show her parents or her other friends. I move to sit on her lap, because we haven't had any form of physical contact since I got here. I look at her drawings. There are 3. They're all of a vase of carnations. I go "Haha!" She stays quiet because she knows what it meant. She's drawn what it would like if you were looking at it from a higher angle, if you were looking from below, and from straight ahead. She's drawn all the little details so accurately (the vase was in front of her on the table), you'd think the pictures were taken by a camera. "Brilliant," I look behind me and say. She looks into my eyes and smiles. I melt. I could feel my cheeks turning red. I look back down at her drawings so she wouldn't see. "You're n-nearly done," I stutter, giving myself away like the fool that I am. She leans forward and wraps her arms around my midsection. "Yeah, just a few more stuff here and there," she says, her tone chiding. "You're cute, you know that?" My head is bowed and my eyes are shut. I take a deep breath, 'cause if I don't I'm going to indulge in this and then probably do something more silly. I get off her lap and throw myself on the bed, burying my head under a pillow. It smells just like her. FML. I hear a giggle. Few minutes later I run out of air under there, so now my head is on the pillow, facing away from her. Then I hear ruffling of paper, meaning she's done and putting her works away for submission, as well as tidying up her table. I'm a super hero, so duh, yes I have eyes at the back of my head.

She walks past me toward some shelves beside her closet where she puts her lotions and other bottled stuff. She reaches for the alcohol, but then changes in an instant and pours some scented sanitizer into her palms. When she was done she reaches into a lower shelf for a wet towel, with which she wipes her face. Then she comes to me and sticks her hands in front of my nose from behind me. I sniff. "Sexy," I breathe out. She rubs the tips of her fingers into my hair, then plants a kiss where her hand was. I turn my head. She's now sitting beside me on the bed, her back resting on the headboard, fiddling with her phone. "How's Nate?" Where did that come from? From my heart of gold, most likely. Again, FML.

I notice the change in her expression right away. In fairness to her, though, she tries to tone down her excitement for my sake. "He's good. A little busy recently. He says hi by the way."

"Tell him I say hi back."

"Will do…" Then her throat clears. "I have to ask you something about him, also, since you're here—"

"Yes, you can go out with him," I sigh. She really likes this guy, more than the usual crush. I'm her best friend, I should know. And she won't open this up if it were just something as simple as a crush. I should know. Enter sigh number two. I look up at her, she has the 'I'm so sorry, but…' look on her face. Her happiness before yours, M. _Her happiness before yours._

"M, I really feel a connection with him. You know I wouldn't—"

"Yeah I know. He's a cool guy. I like him… When did he ask?"

"The other day. I told him I'd get back to him."

"Well then you better get back to him soon. To boys that answer usually means they've blown their chance." She's still trying to help her joy. It's so painfully apparent.

"Really? How do you know that?"

"I'm not sure. I just do," then pointedly I add, "You can squeal if you like. I can tell you wanna, dork."

Now she smiles. "Just texted him," there's a pause. Her face turns serious. "Thank you, M. You're a saint. You're a saint, and I'm a heartless jerk," she says, but she's friggin' smiling again. Full-on.

"Yes. Yes I am, and yes you are," I half whisper, expertly holding in tears. Then suddenly my stomach feels funny. I leap off the bed with a "I'll be right back!" I zoom to the bathroom and the door closes with a bang. I emerge some 10 minutes later after in discomfort, searching for Lysol. Finding it under A's sink I spray around the bathroom, and return to the bed, slowly. I get on it imitating A's current position.

"You okay?"

"Me and my genius brain. I got hooked on that new Vitamin C drink out, you know that?"

"Yeah, that tastes good."

"Boy, does it. I turned it into water. Drank 4 bottles every day this past week. Each bottle actually contains 200% of daily ascorbic acid needs. I've been crappin' like crazy since I started. Turns out, Caitlyn told me, too little too late, that there's such a thing as Vitamin C overdose, which causes diarrhea, so… yep."

"Butt head."

"Thank you for the concern, love."

"Stay away from the damn stuff!"

"I have!"

"Good. Drink Gatorade instead."

*knock knock knock*

"Someone's at the door."

"I heard," and she whacks me on the arm before she gets up to open it. That must be my delivery guy with the roses.

"Ow! Not necessary!" I call out.

"Whatever," she says. The door opens revealing a guy with a bouquet of a dozen red roses.

"Hey, Roj," I'm now standing beside Alex at the door.

"Roj from Henny's? You work at a flower shop?" Alex asks, with a surprised look on her face.

"Sure do," Roj says with a laugh. "I'm sorry I don't look like it. But I guess now you know where Mitchie gets all her flowers. She's given me good business, you know, thanks to you." Alex takes the flowers, sniffing them. Watching her do that poofs away all my earlier pain. I take out a 5 and hand it to him. "Yeah, now I tip him, not the other way around, like it should be. My tip revenue at Henny's has significantly decreased," I tell him cheekily. Roj chuckles and pushes my hand away. "No thanks. Put one here, that'll do," he's tapping his cheek with his finger. I put the bill back into my pocket. "Is that all?" I grin big and kiss his cheek. Then I hug him for good measure. Or maybe 'cause I need one right now. "Thanks, bud," I tell him. Ya'll are probably thinking Roj is some stinky old man, but he's actually fairly young. He's a single dad to two little boys. He's not even 40 yet, I think. His mom takes care of his sons when he's at work, or at Henny's; she lives with him. I've yet to ask what happened to his wife.

"You're welcome, darlin'." When I let him go he hits my cheek playfully. "You'll get her," his tone is reassuring.

"Yeah. Take care, now."

I shut the door to approach Alex. She was busy arranging the roses. When she sees me she comes over and hugs me tight. "Thank you just wouldn't do it," she says. "Who's the cheeseball now?" I reply, with raised eyebrows. "Shut up," and she releases me. I couldn't help but ask "Do you like them?"

A smiles so gently at me I wanna just crawl into a corner and start bawlin' over my misfortune. "Oh no, crap, they're horrible, I hate them." I look down, but of course I don't cry. I sit myself on her countertop in her small kitchen, where she's fixing the roses up beside the sink. "It's Chinese Valentine's Day today," I inform her.

"That's why you got me a dozen red roses?"

"Mhm. The Chinese like to stand out, makes themselves unique, don't they? Their own calendar, with their own New Year's Day and their own day of hearts." I stop talking to watch her finish up. Then she proceeds to taking the flowers to the ledge by the window, comes back and sits next to me. "There's a story behind it. Wanna hear?" I ask, still looking down. She lays her head on my shoulder and says, "Sure." She looks down too.

"Today is the seventh day of the seventh lunar month on the Chinese calendar. In China they call it Qi Xi. It's based on the story of a young cowherd, who came across a beautiful girl—the seventh daughter of the Goddess, who just has escaped from boring heaven to look for fun. The naughty princess soon fell in love with the cowherd, and they got married without the knowledge of the Goddess. The fairy girl proved to be a wonderful wife, and the cowherd to be a good husband. They lived happily and had two children. But the Goddess of Heaven found out that the fairy girl, had married a mere mortal. The Goddess was furious and ordered her to return to heaven. On Earth, the cowherd was very upset that his wife had disappeared. Suddenly, his ox began to talk, telling him that if he killed it and put on its hide, he would be able to go up to Heaven to find his wife. So he killed the ox, put on the skin, and carried his two children off to Heaven to find their mother. The Goddess discovered this and was very angry. Taking out her hairpin, she scratched a wide river in the sky to separate the two lovers forever.

"The fairy girl must sit forever on one side of the river, sadly weaving on her loom, while the cowherd watches her from afar while taking care of their two children.

"But once a year all the magpies in the world would take pity on them and fly up into heaven to form a bridge so the lovers may be together for a single night, which is the seventh night of the seventh month."

"Where did you learn all that?"

"Henny's customers are a pretty diverse group of people." I was crying. I wasn't even aware. I wiped my tears away as she raised her head up to look at me. I hop off the countertop. Geez, I hate me.

"I better go before I flood your kitchen," I laugh and sniffle at the same time. A is looking at me with pity in her eyes. Pity, and something else I pray is affection. "No, really, I have to go. I have a piano practical in the morning. Gotta practice." Which is true.

She hops off the counter as well, and embraces me again. "I love you, M. Don't you ever forget it," she tells me.

"Love you too, A." I say simply, for fear I might break dow. Or kiss her or something.

"Text me." She lets me go. I wish she didn't. I wish she'd never.

"Yeah. Have fun on your date with Nate." I'm so brave right now, I totally deserve a medal.

"Kay," she says. I look behind me, face her again, then walk backwards to the door, all the while staring at her, smiling. My back hits the door with a thud, and I reach for the knob with my left hand. I feel it, turn it, then I step forward to open the door. I grin, she calls out "Goof!" I call out "Bye!" then I exit.

Because I'm a super hero, the tears only start to fall again, all on their own, when I get home and my back hits my own bed. Okay, so maybe this isn't all that fun.


	9. It Might Kill Me

**AN: LONGEST chapter yet. What you guys have been aching for, based on your reviews. ;) Enjoy. **

**Alex's POV**

Is there really a particular point in your life wherein you finally find that other soul destined to exist alongside yours for the rest of time?

There is. I couldn't understand the concept either, at first, same as most people growing up. But now I definitely do.

I wasn't surprised at all at how plainly it happened. It's the littlest things that make the big differences. I believe that now.

Mitchie and I were at Central Park again, to feed the ducks as usual. It was late afternoon, and we had just finished. I was aimlessly roaming, clutching my SLR, taking pictures of random stuff I found interesting. Soon I began to feel the first signs of hunger so I started heading back to our spot to get M. When I got there, she was looking at the sky. Her head was tilted straight upward, her eyes wide, eyebrows raised, her mouth shut. Recognizing this as a Kodak moment, I silently moved towards her for a better angle, and snapped. At the camera's click she abruptly turned to me and proceeded to slap my arm, which I quickly jumped away and avoided, giggling. I looked down my camera's screen, which I made to flash the picture I'd just taken. It turned out really good; the setting sun hit her face in all the right spots. Her hair was straightened down that day, and there was a slight breeze blowing at it. You can only imagine how beautiful all that made her look. My best friend was beautiful. Painfully so, I thought out of nowhere. Then I felt it. I don't know where it had come from, but I knew that it was in my chest now, slowly spreading throughout my whole body. I turned off and gently dropped my camera (which was hanging around my neck), looked up at Mitchie, who had gone back to her former position, but this time with her eyes closed, and a little smile. My breath hitched. _Beautiful. _There was a huge lump in my throat suddenly, so I swallowed it down. It didn't stop my lips from beginning to tremble. I wanted to hold her so I went to sit beside her and tapped her left shoulder. She blinked, then looked at me. Her eyes widened. She was worried, probably 'cause of how I looked like right then. Must've been like I'd seen a ghost. "What's wrong, love?" she asks. Love. The only thing I see when I look into her eyes. Love in all forms. Love I knew I no longer what else to do with but give back to her a hundredfold. I pressed my thumb absentmindedly to the dimple on her chin, licked my lips, then put my arms around her shoulders, bringing her flush against me. "Woah," she said, before she hugged me back. She felt so warm and precious and priceless to me at that moment. When we broke apart and she asked again what was wrong with me I just smiled and told her "Nothing, just, you know, me and my artist brain." Then I smiled very big and told her I was hungry, and that her hair smelled real nice. She shook her head saying, "An empty artist belly? Now that just won't do!" Then she dragged me up, grabbed my camera bag, then my arm again, and pulled me in the direction of the nearest hotdog stand.

The day before that I went out with Nate. I enjoyed his company a lot more than I did Justin's, I must say. He was a gentleman; more mature, as I expected, also funnier, smarter, more considerate and thoughtful. He has an extremely cute and genuine close-mouthed smile. Overall he's a wonderful guy, which was why I liked him a whole lot in the first place, and I knew I was lucky to be out with him. He earned a bunch of double takes from girls just walking down the street with me. He kissed my cheek lightly before letting go of my hand and allowing me to get inside my dorm room. Inside I plopped myself on the bed. I found myself, oddly, comparing everything about him with… Mitchie—how he would look at me, how Mitchie would; how he smelled like and how Mitchie smelled better, and so much more familiar; how much cuter Mitchie's big smile is than his already cute one; how much softer M's hands were; how much I loved to touch her smooth hair, straight or curly; well Nate's looked fun to play with too, but they're just… not the same. Nate blushed once, when he asked if he could hold my hand. I was flattered, but at the same time reminded of how Mitchie would blush at the mere thought of holding my hand, plus how she would blush whenever I complimented her, or whenever she'd hand me flowers she always happens to have prepared for me each time we'd meet, or everytime she would do something sweet… and how I would blush in return. When I finally decided to get up to get ready to sleep I became conscious of the fact that I was thinking about my best friend, and not about my just concluded date with a person I supposedly felt quite deeply for.

It all made sense to me, of course, the next day. In the words of Katy Perry, "Comparisons are easily done once you've had a taste of perfection." And borrowing from Alanis Morisette, M has "won me over in spite of me" and finally I've fallen "head over feet."

Currently, I am pulled out of my reverie by Harper, my closest college friend, who's handing me a coffee. I take it, sip, and feel calmed down slightly. I look at my watch. I've been thinking all that for the past hour. The red head takes a seat next to me and rubs my back. We both hear heavy footsteps in the distance quickly become louder and louder. They stop, and the both of us look up at a panting Caitlyn. She was still in her dance clothes. "Couldn't get out of—"

"Class, I know. It's okay, Cay. Sit. You look like you ran all the way here." The girl shakily sits on Harper's other side. Harper looks at Cay's bags, then offers "You have water in there? Want me to go get you some?" Caitlyn manages a "Yeah, please, Harp. Thanks," in between breaths. The four of us, Mitchie included, have hung out several times since freshman year. "What happened?" Caitlyn puffs. "Dehydration due to chronic diarrhea. She's resting now," I told her, sighing.

"But she stopped with the Vita C! I told her to!"

"She did." I take another sip of my coffee and raise my eyes to meet hers. Mine started to water. Again. I look back down, placing my coffee on the floor. She moved up a chair and started running her hand up and down my upper arms, making me face her. "Spill, Russo." I swallow, trying to keep myself together. Harper comes back with Caitlyn's water, who chugs down a quarter of the bottle down. Harper looks at me encouragingly. I know Caitlyn has to be told everything. I clear my throat.

"Last week… I… I realized I had fallen for Mitchie." Caitlyn brightens a bit. But she doesn't say anything, so I continue. "I chose not to tell her right away 'cause I wanted to go big. So I went to Tiffany's and got her this." Out of my jacket pocket I pull a black ring box and hand it to Caitlyn, which she takes and opens with large eyes. "A… this is pretty."

"It's peridot, her birthstone, and my favorite color." I reply with a weak smile. "It's a promise ring. It's the very least I can give her for everything." Caitlyn closes the box and gives it back.

"Since Harper was on her way home," Harper passes M's apartment on her to the house she grew up in, "I asked her to drop by Mitch's to tell her to meet me at our spot in Central. Frankly I don't know why, I could've texted her. I guess it was fate." My voice cracks at that, so Harper stands and motions for Caitlyn and I to move up seats so she can sit on my other side to comfort me. She picks up where I left off.

"Well, I knock, and when Mitchie opens the door she would've fallen forward if I hadn't caught her. She was pale and sweaty and super weak, so I helped her back to bed. Her room's a huge mess, and her trash can was like overflowing with empty Gatorade bottles, and her bathroom reeked. I didn't know what else to do but call Alex, and call 911. When Alex gets there Mitchie's eyeballs were practically rolling into her head. M passes out, and a little after that the paramedics get there, and somehow in the midst of the entire ruckus I understood that she was dehydrated." At this part Harper slows down, and her tone becomes more somber. "Her pulse kept weakening on her way here. And when we all got here, her body… well it shut down… 'cause of the lack of water." I break down after that. Caitlyn wraps me in a hug and I bury my face into her neck. Harper rubs my back she was doing earlier. I hear her continue.

"She…" Her voice was soft. "She needed to be revived, Cay. Her heart beat was out for a couple seconds." I felt Caitlyn flinch upon hearing that. "The doctors were able to get her stable after shocking her. Alex screamed like hell the whole time." I picked my head up off Caitlyn's neck, sobbing.

"She t-told me something… b-before she lost cons-ciousness, Cay. Wanna know what she said?" I say through surges of emotion. Not waiting for Caitlyn's answer, who was just staring at me sadly, "She looked into my eyes, even though it was a struggle for her to," I sob out. "She said… she said…" I sniffle loudly, wiping my face with a hanky Harper held out to me. "She whispered… 'Only God knows how much I love you.'" Caitlyn pushes my head back into her neck and strokes my hair. I don't bother trying to stop myself from crying.

_It might kill me,_ I remember she said before. I could not believe that would actually hold out. I almost lost her. I could have.

I had gone home to shower and change. Harper, who went home like she was supposed to, came back to watch Mitchie for me. I'd just gotten a text from Caitlyn, who had just left for school, that M was awake, and so now I am sprinting to her hospital room. I had spoken to her doctor. He asked me if there was anything else she'd eaten aside from the vitamin C drink. I told him I didn't know of any. Then he asked me if there was anything that might have caused her stress or anxiety. "It's a long story, doc, but yeah, I think there were reasons," I said to him.

Her prolonged diarrhea was caused by the stress and anxiety that followed her Vita C spree, within the week of my date with Nate, and that day at the park, where she looked perfectly fine. Turns out she was losing great amounts of fluids each time she went to the bathroom, which was, from the doctor's guess, about twice to three times per day. It was me. I was the one who had almost taken out what could very well be the world's largest and strongest heart.

I get to her room and yank the door open so hard it barely stayed hinged. She turns her head from her checker game with Harper and grins at me. "Hey," she says strongly, like everything's fine and she wasn't recovering from a near death experience in a hospital bed. "You lose." This was directed at Harper. "Like I couldn't see for myself!" was Harper's retort. I bite my lip to keep from falling yet again. When Harper finishes clearing up the board game I rush over to M, give her a big kiss on the cheek and engulf her in an equally big hug. "A… can't… breathe…" I immediately let her go. "Sorry!"

"Hey guys, you gonna be okay now? I gotta go finish the texture plate you've long been done with, A." I direct my attention to the red head, whose attire seemed pretty ordinary today, unlike her usual flashy get-ups. "Yes, Harp. Thank you so much." Harper then rounds the bed to other side and hugs Mitchie. "You get better now, cutie." The red head tells her, taking M's cheeks in her hands and loudly kissing her forehead. "Yes, ma'am, I will," says M with that smile of hers, the smile that now makes me melt more than it makes me feel anything else. When the door closes behind Harper, I am left to look at Mitchie. Her hair's been brushed, but she still a little pale. Before I went home this morning the doctor told me at this point all she needs are lots of water, rest, and for her to take the pills she was given to aid in the settlement of her digestive system. She can go home by tomorrow if all goes well.

Looking at her, and thinking all that, I remember everything that had just happened, and I start to cry. Again! Unsuccessful in keeping the tears at bay. She, of course, reached out and caught them with her thumb, the one on the hand without an IV. "Don't cry, I'm here, I'm breathing, aren't I?"

"…But you almost…"

"But I didn't, which could only mean I could never leave you." I move closer to give her another, gentler hug. I bask in her warmth. It fills me up from head to toe and I don't think I'll ever learn to get enough.

"Did you know? Who told you?" I hadn't let her go. I was drawing patterns into her back with my fingers. "I didn't know it happened, but now I do 'cause Cay told me. I was resurrected. Pretty cool."

"Revived, M. And no it wasn't cool at all, don't you EVER scare me like that again." I'd taken to nuzzling her hair, so that last part came out muffled. "Same thing. 'Ressurected' just sounds fancier." I let go to look in her face as I asked her, "Wait, you didn't know it happened?"

"No, I didn't. You'd think I would but I didn't. I was completely blacked out. I was here when I came to. Woke up to Caitlyn's giant hug and grin." She pauses. "You know, I thought that was it, A. I've always believed I would die on that day I officially loose all chances with you. That's why I told you what I did before I passed out."

"So you remember that part?" I look alternately between her eyes and take both her hands in mine. "Clearly." A shaky breath from M, and another tangible silence before I begin what may be the start of my very own heaven on Earth—with Mitchie. My tears were flowing again, slowly, along with my words. "I wanna say I'm deeply sorry, sweetheart, even though that wouldn't suffice."

"A, you don't—"

"Let me finish." And she shuts up. "I'm sorry, M, for ever being able to stomach putting you through all that pain. I honestly don't know how I did so. You never deserved a minute of it. You deserve to be happy… If to have me is what's going to make you truly happy, then take me, M. I'm all yours." I haven't moved away so far from when I was hugging her; we were still pretty close to each other. I hold her hands to my chest, over my heart. "Especially this. This is rightfully belongs to you. It should have been yours from the beginning." She's crying now too. "I told you before that you deserve more than you have to give. Right now, I swear, that for everything you have ever given me, I have more to give back. Because I never knew it was possible for someone to love somebody this much, Mitch. I'm so in love with you. Every inch of you. I'm going to spend the rest of my life proving it. You're never going to cry a single tear ever again if I can help it, M. I'll make you so happy."

She pulls her hands away from where they were placed and moves to take my face. We were drowning in each others eyes. Then mine slip closed. She comes near enough for us to breathe each other. I revel in her presence for a moment, holding her hands in place, and finally I take away the remaining space between us. I take her lips in mine. It's as simple as something clicks somewhere inside us both, something that told us that two halves have become whole. My arms shift to around her waist, and hers wrap around my neck.

But of course there are butterflies and fireworks and all that shiz too. This IS a lip lock.

We press as hard as we possibly could against each other until we must come up for air. She presses her nose to my right cheek. "God, I love you." Her lips brush against it as she speaks, then she kisses it.

"I love you more," I say into her ear.

"That's not possible."

"Sure it is. Are you going to argue with me, Michelle?"

"No, madam," she says after a while.

"Good."

"But I loved you first. You'd be retarded if you don't agree with that." Her forehead is now pressed against mine. "I agree. I'm not a retard." I grin, then tilt my head forward to kiss her again. But she moves away.

"Wait, A."

"What is it?"

"How badly do you want a second kiss?"

"VERY badly."

"Bad enough that you can wait 'til I get out of here and then do something for me first before you get it?" I pull away far enough to look at her face. "You're serious," I say exasperated. She smiles. She knows I never resist that smile. "Anything, sweetheart. What would you like me to do?"

"Woo me," she says, her smile now eating her face.

"Woo you," I repeat.

"I deserve to be wooed, even just one time, don't you think, love?" she asks sweetly. An awfully sweet request—it dawns on me—from the sweetest girl on the planet.

"I do think you deserve to be wooed, yeah," I nod. "Of course baby, I'll woo you. I'll sweep you off your feet. Would that be all?"

**AN2: Shout outs: **Karen2212, sbys, greatpretender27 [ano ate, natagalan pa ba? :P], whateverOne, manhattanProject [excuse me, what about YOUR story, you think it's not breaking MY heart? ;)], SuperGravyMan [excited for your story, man], natt18, tatimac. THANK YOU! :D****


	10. A Lot That I've Missed

**AN: I wanted to update earlier but I couldn't bring myself to start this chapter. I was deeply (being a silly huge fangirl) affected by the Juslena action at the BBMA's. I feel so bad for Demi. If there really was something that went on between her and Selena, and there MUST have been, I've never seen so much love between two people ever in my life, then Demi must be feeling like crap. She's hasn't been feeling well lately, did you guys know? So for a while, I lost my mojo. :| But I didn't wanna prolong your waiting, so here's the final chapter. :)**

**Huge thank you's to MC.13, Ad3n, the amazing manhattanProject, sbys, my friend the equally amazing SuperGravyMan, Ate kababayan greatpretender27, xDehx, full360-2b-me, Karen2212, and everyone else who favorited me or this story that I didn't mention, and all those who read. Thanks so much for supporting my first ever full length Demena fic. I'm now more or less certain that I'd have a future as a writer. :)**

**This story was inspired by my own personal sunshine, LusciousLife. Thus I dedicate this chapter to her, if it's worth anything. :)**

**Thanks again, everyone. Enjoy.**

**Third person POV**

**[3 Days Later]**

Mitchie made a rapid recovery; true enough, the day after she was hospitalized, she was released, so she'd been able to go back to school yesterday. She is now walking down the corridor of Juilliard's Music Wing, on her way out, shoving her sheets and other stuff into her shoulder bag. Then she rubs her temples. As a side effect of the momentary stopping of her heart and the electric shock, Mitchie has sparsely been experiencing headaches since she got out.

With her head bowed, she steps into the sidewalk, about to start her walk home when she gets a whiff of something fragrant and familiar. She raises her head and her line of sight is immediately greeted by a bouquet of light blue tulips. "Hi," says a voice behind them. The flowers are lowered to reveal Alex—an exceedingly ravishing Alex, Mitchie thinks, in a red v-neck long sleeved top that came down mid-thigh, some black skinny pants and silver flats—sporting a lopsided grin and a slight blush. Mitchie suddenly knows not what to say so she settles for a smile back. "I know these are your favorite," says Alex. She hands the flowers to Mitchie and she takes them with a "Thank you. Now I know what this feels like for a change." Then, her eyes never leaving Mitchie's gaze, Alex takes her school bag and slings it over her right shoulder, then takes her hand and kisses her knuckles. "Headache's gone, I presume?"

"Yeah, gone, poof." Mitchie, still smiling, squeezes Alex's hand back. "Aren't you supposed to be in class right now?"

"Free cut. Took it as an opportunity to fulfill your request," answers A, eyebrows wiggling. Mitchie's smile turns close-mouthed. She embraces Alex's left arm with both of her own and says "I wanna go to the park," then begins walking. "My thoughts exactly," was Alex's response.

On the way their position shifts to Alex's left arm being draped over Mitchie's left shoulder, their left hands linked. People passing them by surprised themselves by smiling goofily at the adorable pair. Even to strangers, their connection was undeniable. Even to those who didn't exactly agree with that sort of thing.

They sit at their usual bench. The ducks, though, are off in the distance, being fed by some other people today. Ducks or no ducks, Mitchie absolutely adores this place. It's something both her and Alex could call their very own, besides each other. She licks her lips and looks up to the sky, something she'd taken a liking to doing recently. She feels like a coffee, and thus voices the thought out. "I feel like a coffee," she tells her girlfriend. She lowers her eyes to Alex's. They're looking at her the same way they did that day A took her picture and she didn't know. Alex snaps out of her daze. "Oh, okay. Be right back." She leaves Mitchie's stuff with their owner and heads to Starbucks.

Alex returns a few minutes earlier later with a Mocha Frap for M, and a vanilla one for herself. Mitchie is intently staring at a page on one of her notebooks, mumbling to herself, and then scratches her nose. Alex finds this awfully cute. She sits beside Mitchie as the girl puts her notes down, smiling thanks at Alex. They talk about stuff they usually would as they sip—ridiculously heavy schoolwork, difficult subjects, difficult professors, difficult people in general, which may or may not lead to a topic on current events or Hollywood gossip, and from there it's unpredictable.

They've been sitting quietly for the past ten minutes or so now, Alex's head on Mitchie's shoulder, their fingers intertwined, when randomly, Alex says "I love you, sweetheart."

"I loved you first," replies Mitchie.

"But I love you more," Alex argues. Mitchie gives Alex's hand another squeeze. Then they're silent again. But that didn't last long.

"We're bound to get hitched some time in the future, aren't we?" Mitchie giggles at the question's sentence construction. Not very Alex-like. "I think that would be inevitable at this point, yes, why?"

Alex brings out the peridot ring she bought M last week from her pants pocket. It wasn't in a box anymore; it'd be too bulky. "Well, good, because when I look to the future, I see you, and those eyes of yours… and how I don't think I'll be sane enough to function if I don't get to see them everyday." As she was speaking, Alex had slid the ring onto M's left ring finger. She takes her heads off the other's shoulder and looks up to a crying Mitchie. She catches the tears with her thumbs. Her voice cracking, "Only God knows how much I love you, Mitchie," she says.

Then there's a pause.

"So," she tries to gain back composure, then beams, "how's that for a woo-ing, ei?"

The kiss that follows that was epic, of course, both of them smiling crazily into it, and lasted really long. It had a sequel in Mitchie's apartment, and an additional innumerable amount of sequels in the next days.

And in those days, Alex realized just how much she's missed, and how much she didn't want to miss anything more.

It's Saturday, a week after the "proposal". Mitchie is standing outside Alex's dorm door, fidgeting. She doesn't know why. She knocks. Alex gets it.

"Why are you knocking? I gave you a key," Alex smiles at Mitchie, and pecks her. M steps into the room and closes the door behind her. "I didn't tell you I was coming; what if you get a heart attack?" Alex simply chuckles. "Why are you here anyway?"

That's when Mitchie remembers she was nervous. Albeit unreasonably. "W-well, I u-umm… What the hell's wrong with me?" Exclaims M, her own head in her hands. Alex scrunches her eyebrows. "Yes, M, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"You're my girlfriend, now, right?"

"Fiancée, actually," reminds Alex, holding Mitchie's left hand in front of their faces. Mitchie looks down. "R-right. S-so I-I thought may-be I could..."

"You could…?"

"Takeyououtonadatetoday."

Alex smirks. "I beg your pardon?" Mitchie looks up to her with genuinely apprehensive eyes. Alex immediately melts. "I'm kidding, love, I heard you. Of course I'd go out with you, that's what we're supposed to do," she laughs a little. "It's just me, what're you so nervous about?" Mitchie looks down again and shrugs. Alex inwardly gasps as she feels an unexpected, strong surge of love for her best friend. She puts her hand under Mitchie's chin and looks deeply into her eyes. "I love you, sweetheart. I would give up everything for you." She closes the gap between them, soft lips slide gently against soft lips, and they share an nth sequel to their mind-blowing kiss at the park.

After that, Mitchie magically gains her confidence back. She sighs and says, "Great. So we're taking your car. And I'm crashing here tonight." Her signature smile makes an appearance. Alex puts her mouth on it then hugs her tight, laughing and rolling her eyes.

They go get Japanese. They present their rice bowls to each other once they finish, to see who has the cleaner one, chopsticks are hard to use, as is tradition. "I call it a tie," declares Alex.

They're stuffed, so they decide to go for a walk at Central. "It's romantic here at night," comments Mitchie. "It's always romantic here. This is Central Park. I just didn't see right away 'cause I'm oblivious," Alex admits, laughing. They've been doing that so much lately, laughing. Mitchie moves to in front of Alex from her place at her side, pulls on both A's hands to they're closer and kisses her quickly. She walks backwards, still holding onto A's hands, as A walks forward. "This is surreal, honestly," says Mitchie. Alex asks "What is?"

"This. Us. I was prepared to wait 'til my next lifetime for this to happen."

"And what makes you think I'd even be in your next lifetime?"

"We're soulmates. Our souls will always co-exist."

"That's what I thought when I first realized I loved you."

"Really?"

"Really." Alex puts her arms around Mitchie's waist and buries her face in M's hair.

The couple goes home and then goes to bed. Alex's right thumb strokes Mitchie's left cheek, effectively putting the younger girl to sleep. Alex, on the other hand, isn't tired yet, and so resorts to watching M sleep. She's lying on her belly, her cheek pressed to her own pillow, a good distance from Mitchie's, granting her a good view of her best friend's angelic face. Thinking she was asleep, A jumps when M suddenly speaks. "I used to do that a lot, you know."

"Do what?" Alex says back softly.

"Watch you sleep." Mitchie's eyes are open now, staring at the ceiling. She smiles a little, saying "I'd always end up questioning your inhuman-like beauty. I came up with a few theories, wanna hear one?"

"Of course my dork would come up with theories. Sure, like what?"

"You could be Jupiter's youngest daughter, half-mortal and half-goddess like Hercules, and had to be hidden here on Earth to live a normal human life to escape the wrath of Juno, who thought Jupiter had stopped his womanizing ways."

"That sounds fairly well-rehearsed."

Mitchie giggles. "That's 'cause it is."

"So that's why you call me 'goddess divine'!"

"Mhm."

"Well I am deeply flattered, pumpkin."

Alex can feel Mitchie getting sleepy again, as Mitchie moves to lay her head on Alex chest, her arms wrapping around the older girl's torso. Alex's arms in turn wrap around M's shoulders, her left hand gently playing with M's hair.

"Night, goddess divine." M gives out a yawn. "You're where I belong." Alex could've sworn her heart skipped a beat at that. Nevertheless, "Night, world's biggest sweetheart. You're where I belong," she says back.


End file.
